


Catch Me If I Fall

by a_quick_drink



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Rare Pairings, paycation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-03-30 20:26:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3950581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_quick_drink/pseuds/a_quick_drink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carter Shaw, husband and prized possession of the infamous Owen Shaw, is an UC specialist. But what happens when he gets too deep?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Casey_Wolfe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casey_Wolfe/gifts).



> Inspired by a prompt Casey sent me on tumblr. Had so much fun writing the first part that I got carried away and let it turn into much more than it was ever intended to be. ^^;

After a year of working his way up through Braga’s operation, Carter’s hard work finally paid off. Just one more test–a routine interrogation he could do in his sleep–and he’d be as close to the drug lord as he dared. A couple more months tops and he could trade the filthy LA streets for lounging on sunny Mallorcan beaches with his husband.

Pushing aside the happy thought, Carter schooled his expression as he followed Fenix into the dark room. A weak overhead light flickered on, and his stomach dropped. Strapped to the chair in the center of the room was friend and fellow UC specialist, Brian, stony-faced despite the flash of recognition in his eyes.

The corner of Fenix’s mouth curled into a smirk as he shoved a pistol into Carter’s hand. “Kill him and Braga never has to know.” Cold steel pressed against Carter’s temple. “Agent Shaw.”

Fuck. Did he play along as if it were a trick, or risk everything he’d accomplished to save Brian? Carter swallowed hard as he raised his arm and took aim. It wouldn’t be just Owen he’d have to worry about if he fucked this up but also Dom, who would never forgive him for getting Brian killed. Not that it’d matter because he’d likely be shark chow by then.

Carter squeezed the trigger. 

Brian stared in shock as red blossomed over his heart, and then his head dropped. Chuckling, Fenix swiped the gun from Carter and stuffed it in his waistband. “Didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Fenix said, keeping his gun trained on Carter as he moved toward Brian. “But somehow I don’t think he’s actually dead.”

“You don’t trust me?” Carter asked innocently. Fenix’s gaze flicked from him to Brian. Grabbing his wrist, Carter tugged him forward, reaching for the spare gun and tossing it away before Fenix tackled him to the ground.

Several unsuccessful attempts later–and a few too many well-aimed blows–Carter finally wrested the second gun away and wrapped himself around the bigger man. Whether Fenix truly knew his identity or not, Carter had shown his hand. He couldn’t risk letting the bastard live. Fenix bucked against him but Carter held on until Fenix went limp, life choked out of him. 

A second later Brian threw his head back. “Fuuuck,” he whined, breaking the silence. “Why’d ya hafta shoot me?”

Carter shoved Fenix’s body off and went to him. He freed Brian’s hands, and then shucked off his button-down shirt. “What are you doing here?” he asked instead. Brian had nothing to do with this op, but then Carter had dug himself in so deep this time he no longer knew what was going on in his other life.

“Because they–” Brian gasped when Carter pressed his shirt to the wound. “They think you turned,” he bit out, clamping a hand over the shirt so Carter could free his legs.

“So they sent you in after me?” Carter helped Brian up and slung his friend’s good arm around his neck. “Because I gotta tell ya, Bri, you’re getting rusty from sitting behind that big desk of yours so much.“ 

He missed his old partner, but this was how it should be. Brian had Dom and Jack to worry about now, so it’d come as no surprise when Brian jumped at the cushy office promotion he’d been turning down for years. Himself and Owen, on the other hand, had no such plans to settle into domestic bliss.

“Not exactly.” Brian bit his lip. “I was trying to find you but, uh, he found me first,” he said with a gesture at Fenix’s body.

Carter steered him out the door and down the empty hallway toward the back door of the warehouse. “Was there anyone else with him? Did he talk to anyone?” This looked bad, but maybe he could salvage the op if he could spin this as another example of Fenix’s personal vendetta against him. Assuming anyone else even knew it happened.

“Not that I could tell. It was always just him, and he only made the call to you. That I know of. Was kinda busy being blacked out for a bit there.”

Letting that settle in his mind, Carter helped Brian into the backseat of his car, and then climbed into the driver’s seat and sped away. “I’m gonna drop you off at the hospital, okay?” Brian groaned in response as the car hit a bump in the pavement. Carter glanced at him in the rear-view mirror before turning his attention back to the road. “Try to get me some backup, but stay out of this, Bri.”

Whether Brian heard him or not Carter didn’t know because there was only silence from the back seat. 

* * *

An hour later, Carter dropped onto the mattress in the dumpy studio apartment he inhabited as part of his cover. Phone in hand, he stared at the photo of Owen smiling at him from the screen, finger hovering over the message button. Should he or shouldn’t he?

Temporarily cutting ties with those he loved was the part of the job he hated most, but it kept them safe and let him focus on his job. Maybe too much so. Seeing Brian again had been a wake up call he hadn’t realized he needed. Nobody before him had successfully infiltrated Braga’s ranks because none had been willing to cross the necessary lines; lines he crossed without hesitation all too frequently. No wonder it looked like he’d switched sides.

He tapped out a quick message and hit send before he could talk himself out of it.

_Need you._


	2. Chapter 2

Owen pulled his hood up and stuffed his hands in his pockets. The rain had started as a drizzle minutes after he’d pulled out of the drive, turning heavy by the time he parked a block away from Carter’s apartment. Another shiver rolled up his spine but this one had nothing to do with the bone-chilling damp.

_Need you._

He respected his husband’s desire to separate work and personal life, but he didn’t agree with it. He was more than capable of defending himself, and that was assuming anyone made it through his layers of security. The condo had a state-of-the-art security system thanks to one of Carter’s old contacts, a psycho Doberman that would gladly turn anyone not them into a grisly chew toy, and an array of firearms and other things that went boom scattered throughout for quick access. Whatever followed either of them home could be dealt with swiftly and violently. And that was excluding the rogues gallery of friends they both kept.

Owen saw no reason for Carter to hole up in those godawful apartments for months on end when he could come home instead. Worse, though, was that Carter cut all contact with anyone on the outside during those months–no calls, no texts, nothing to at least let Owen know he was okay. Carter became one of the people he hunted, people Owen knew all too well. But this was Carter’s other passion in life, and Owen respected that too.

Seeing that text both thrilled and terrified him. What could possibly have happened that Carter broke his self-imposed ban to reach out to him?

Glancing around for anyone who may have followed, Owen let himself into the bio-hazard of a building that was Carter’s second home. His footsteps on the stairs echoed against the walls he was glad he couldn’t see. He had no trouble imagining them, though, as he’d seen countless other buildings like this in his time: damaged walls, non-existent lighting, rats and cockroaches scurrying about. He shivered again and took the stairs two at a time.

When he made it to the fourth floor, Owen picked his way down the dark hall to the apartment at the end. He slipped the spare key Carter had given him as a precaution into the lock and let himself in. The sound of a gun being racked greeted him.

“It’s only me, darling.” A warm body flung itself at him a moment later and pulled him into a crushing hug. Carter buried his nose in Owen’s neck, the stubble he wore so well ticklish as it scraped against Owen’s skin. “What’s wrong?” he murmured, ducking his head to find Carter’s lips. It had been far too long since they’d last held each other like this, and he intended to make the most of whatever little time they had.

“Need you.” Their lips crashed together, and then were gone all too soon. “I’ll explain later, but right now…” Carter pressed his nose to Owen’s cheek, panting as he tugged on the zipper of Owen’s jacket. Finding another zipper underneath, Carter growled in frustration and yanked on it, shoving the offending jacket and hoody from Owen’s shoulders. Grabbing fistfuls of shirt, Carter pulled Owen away from the door and spun him around. Something bumped into the backs of Owen’s legs–a bed he hoped–and he fell backwards.

Clothes were shed in record time, and then Carter was on top of him, kissing and biting and licking; grinding hard enough into him that Owen forgot how to breathe. How did they go months without this? Why?

Carter suddenly stopped and flattened himself out. “God, I wish I could be inside you right now.”

“And what’s stopping you?”

“No lube. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You mean you don’t keep any around for entertaining company in my absence?”

“Can I?”

“No.” Pressing a kiss to auburn curls, Owen smiled to himself. “Coat pocket. Do you really think I’d be unprepared to see you for the first time in months?”

Carter barked a laugh. He climbed off and bolted for the door in search of the prize, leaving Owen to consider the sad excuse for a bed he was laying in. At home they had a king sized bed that would dwarf this apartment, with a mattress designed by astronauts or some such that alleviated all the aches and pains they’d accumulated over the years. It was like sleeping on a cloud. This felt like he was laying on rocks. If he could already feel that, he could only imagine the havoc it was wreaking on his husband’s back. Carter didn’t have to live like this.

His thoughts were thankfully cut short by Carter climbing back up and showering him with kisses. Cold fingers pushed into him. Gasping, Owen’s muscles clenched around them. Definitely too long since he’d last felt this.

“We don’t have to do this,” Carter murmured in his ear.

“Stop and I’ll shoot you myself.”

Teeth grazed over a web of scarring left from their first meeting, drawing a gasp from Owen’s throat. “So impatient.” Carter’s mouth slanted over his, swallowing Owen’s moans as a third finger joined the others.

“Who needed who, hmm?” Owen asked once he’d finally caught his breath.

Carter’s expression softened into a sad smile that broke Owen’s heart. “I always need you.”

Owen bit his lip against all the things he could say and instead took Carter’s face in his hands and kissed him. “Well come on then, papi,” he said with a smirk. “I’m right here.”

Carter blinked at that, and then burst into laughter. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

It was how they met, after all–he as a small arms dealer looking for a change of scenery, and Carter the undercover drug lord wannabe trying to break Braga’s hold on Miami. His skills were impressive but Owen was better. They’d needed each other, and what started as a professional relationship quickly became personal.

“Of course not. Now stop talking and fuck me already.”

———

Owen pulled the blankets up and molded himself to Carter’s back. Carter had nearly died protecting him all those years ago, something Owen never forgot. And though he was no longer the spry gent he’d been before that incident, he would do everything in his power to shield Carter from any further harm, even if the safety was merely an illusion.

“So what happened tonight?”

“I shot Brian.”

“You what? Is he okay?” While not fond of Carter’s ex, Owen certainly didn’t wish death upon him. And definitely not by Carter’s hands.

“Yeah.” Carter blew out a shaky breath. “But it wasn’t just that. The whole thing’s a mess now and I don’t know how–if–I can fix it. All that work and… I just don’t want to think about it right now, okay?”

Owen hugged him tighter. After a few minutes of silence, though, he said, “Come home, darling. Please.”

Lacing their fingers together, Carter pressed a kiss to Owen’s knuckles. “It’s almost over, I promise.”

“And then what? Another few months of desk work before they send you out again?” Owen swallowed around the lump of emotion lodged in his throat. “Before you choose this over me again?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t that keen on the way things were after all.

“That’s not fair, O, you knew this was my life.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Carter sighed and dropped another kiss on Owen’s knuckles. “Don’t apologize, cariño,” he murmured in the gravelly voice Owen adored. “You’re right. Assuming I even have a job when this is over, that’s probably what’ll happen.” Exhaustion laced his words.The night’s events were likely to blame for some of it, though Owen suspected there was more to it.

“Is that what you want?” Owen asked carefully. The answer wouldn’t change his mind from staying with Carter, but he still dreaded hearing ‘yes’. Would enough yeses change his mind somewhere down the road? He didn’t want to find out.

“Not anymore.” Carter turned over and brushed his lips against Owen’s “But I need to finish this first. No more undercover work after that.” His lips curved into a smile. “And then you’ll be stuck with me.”

Owen huffed in mock exasperation. “You mean I wasn’t already?”

“Hey!”

Owen snickered, earning a light swat on the hip before Carter turned over, pulling Owen with him so they were curled together once more. He was halfway to sleep when an idea popped into his mind. 

“Why don’t I stay here instead?”

“No,” Carter grumbled into the pillow.

“Why not? I could keep an eye out while you’re gone, maybe–”

“No. If you want to help, get some of those friends of yours to set up a deal Braga can’t resist. The sooner I get something on him, the sooner I can be done with this shit.”

“I’ve already called in all my favors, dear. Didn’t think you’d want me getting involved with them again.” He still had plenty of connections, he just wasn’t allowed to actually use any of them. Being a law-abiding citizen was so boring.

“Then talk to O’Conner and get me some backup I can actually trust. Keep you both out of trouble.”

Owen scrunched his nose. It was one thing hearing mention of O’Conner, another entirely to have to see him. Didn’t much relish the idea of actually working with him either. For one, because he always got horrible images stuck in his mind whenever he saw Blondie. Two, because the kid was too bloody perky all the time. And three, because he had questionable taste in cars. Petty? Yes, though he considered them even since O’Conner still didn’t trust him no matter how many times he proved otherwise. They played nice only for Carter’s sake. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” Owen teased.

“That I am, cariño. That I am.”


	3. Chapter 3

Brian slammed his phone back into its cradle. He’d spent the past few days back at work trying to pull some strings to no avail. The suspicion surrounding Carter had left him on his own on the other side, a place he didn’t deserve to be. Carter was a lot of things but a criminal was not one of them. Brian was out of options, though, and risked his own career if he pushed too far in the wrong places. 

He spent the next hour working on his own cases, but found it impossible to concentrate with his thoughts constantly straying to Carter. Had anyone else discovered his secret? Was he still okay? He silently cursed his friend for shutting him out again. Bastard hadn’t even had the decency to see if he’d survived.

A stack of manila folders dropped onto the desk in front of him. Startled, he looked up at Monica standing over him, smug grin curling her painted lips. “You didn’t get any of this from me, by the way.”

He had to tread carefully with anyone else in their office, but not with her. Originally Carter’s contact in Miami, she’d ended up posing as his girlfriend on numerous occasions to gather intel he otherwise could not. She’d also saved his ass more times than Carter would admit. After transferring to LA, the three of them had become fast friends. Had he not already fallen for Dom shortly after Carter left, he definitely would’ve tried for something more with her.

“You found something?” Brian asked excitedly as he thumbed through the countless pages of documentation, much of which had been blacked out. There were several photos clipped to the folders as well, though he didn’t recognize any of the faces.

She lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug, and then perched herself on the edge of his desk. “Most of this,” she said with a gesture at the mess of documents now scattered across the glass surface, “is everything Carter’s gathered during his time investigating Braga. Average cartel activity, nothing unusual. But while collecting all of that I noticed some links to these.” She shuffled through the pages, producing a few from the bottom which she handed to him.

More redacted information and unfamiliar faces. Most confusing, though, were mentions of dealings and locations Brian was sure didn’t qualify as ‘average cartel activity’. The cartels he was familiar with kept their activities to the usual things when they weren’t trafficking drugs: money laundering, prostitution, gambling, and a handful of others. What they didn’t get involved in was transactions with known terrorists.

“Whether Carter’s aware of it or not, I think he’s stumbled into something much bigger than we’ve been led to believe.”

Brian frowned. “Okay, but then why is everyone here so convinced he’s switched sides? It doesn’t make any sense to me.” His former partner was so convincing in his UC work that it wouldn’t be the first time their superiors questioned his loyalty. Not like this, though. But then, for as deep as Carter got, he’d never blown off his scheduled meets and interpreted his orders so loosely. Something had changed, though Brian couldn’t figure out what or why.

Monica slid off the desk and crossed the office to close the door. Her shapely brows knitted together. “Unless something’s changed since you saw him, I don’t get the impression his cover’s been blown. But someone knows who he is.” Brian started to ask her a question, but she held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t know who or why. I’ll keep working on it when I can, but there’s only so much I can do without attracting attention.”

Brian nodded and thanked her for her help. She was halfway to the door when she stopped and turned back to him. “Watch yourself, okay?” Her eyes fell to his wounded shoulder and then flicked back up to his. “And don’t trust anyone around here.”

* * *

“Daddy!”

“Hey, buddy!” Brian dropped to one knee so Jack could throw his little arms around his neck. Any other time Brian would have scooped his son up into his arms but the newest wound ensured he wouldn’t be doing a lot of things until it healed. “Were you helping?”

Jack hugged his neck and then pulled away, bobbing his head as he clutched a toy car to his chest. Brian offered him a smile in return and kissed his forehead. Fatherhood had never been in his plans, but when the boy latched onto him like a lost duckling during the investigation of his parents’ murders, Brian found he didn’t have the heart to let the Jack end up in foster care. Dom had easily agreed, and in no time Jack had more family than he’d know what to do with.

Squealing in delight, Jack bounced back to the corner he’d been playing in and immediately sent one of the cars racing off into the garage. The tiny car came to an abrupt stop under Dom’s foot, and he picked it up and handed it back to Jack, ruffling the boy’s hair as he walked past.

“Kid’s a natural,” Dom said proudly. He hooked an arm around Brian’s waist and reeled him in for a kiss. “Gonna be messin’ with our cars in no time.”

Brian smiled against his lips. “Well he is learning from the best.”

They watched Jack play for a few more minutes before Dom broke the silence. “Any luck?”

Brian’s good mood faded as he explained what Monica had found. He’d spent the rest of his day combing through the paperwork but that had mostly resulted in a headache still knocking on his skull. It appeared that Braga was funding some dangerous people overseas, though that bothered him less than the fact that he’d noticed some discrepancies with information on cases he’d worked with Carter years ago. Someone had tampered with the files and he feared how far the misinformation went. Too far, he suspected, because Carter had effectively been blacklisted.

“Does Owen know?”

Brian hummed a negative. “I told him to stop by tonight so I could explain.” He leaned into Dom’s side and huffed a sigh. “I don’t know what’s going on, but Carter didn’t do anything wrong.”

“What do you need me to do?” And that was why Brian loved him. They trusted completely in one another; there was never hesitation or questioning, only action.

“Let’s talk to Owen first and go from there.”

Dom gave him a supportive squeeze, and then let go. “C'mon, kiddo,” he called to Jack. “Time for dinner.” Jack grabbed his favorite car–a blue Nissan, Brian noted with pride–and tore off ahead of them toward the house.

Arching an eyebrow at the toy Charger left behind with the rest of the cars, Dom snorted. “Gotta work on his taste in cars, though.”

Brian gave his chest a playful smack. “You’re gonna regret those words later.”

“Countin’ on it.” Ducking his head, Dom captured Brian’s lips in a searing kiss. His tongue pushed into Brian’s mouth, and Brian melted against him, content to let Dom have whatever he wanted if it meant he could remain here in his husband’s arms and forget everything for a little while. All hell was going to break loose soon enough, and for once he wasn’t sure he was ready.


	4. Chapter 4

Carter rolled over and groaned. This was officially the worst hangover ever. Which was odd because he didn’t remember having more than two drinks. Now that he thought about it, he honestly didn’t remember what he’d ordered. Surely nothing hard enough to give him the hangover from hell.

Sunlight suddenly filled the room and he screwed his eyes shut, groaning. That someone else was in his room bothered him less than the fact they were torturing him and taking pleasure in that if the gruff laughter was anything to go by. He moved to cover his eyes but panic washed over him with the discovery that he was handcuffed to a bed.

_Oh God, what had he done?_

He struggled against his bonds, immediately regretting it when his stomach lurched in protest. There was a chuckle from somewhere nearby, and he tugged harder, nausea be damned.

“Easy there, son.”

A shadow fell over him, and Carter blinked at the figure standing over him. “Who are you?”

“Me? I’m nobody,” the stranger answered.

Fucking fantastic, he’d been captured by some loon with a weird sense of humor. He was definitely retiring if he ever made it back home. And where was he anyway? Carter turned his head away from the mystery man and the window. As part of Braga’s entourage he’d been appointed a nice room, but he didn’t remember it being this nice. He didn’t remember a bed large enough to fit six people, ornate gilded metalwork accents, or a tank full of tropical fish. Fresh flowers perfumed the air from somewhere out of sight.

A dull ache pulsed in his chest. Owen would love this. Before he could linger on that thought, however, the blazing sunlight thankfully disappeared as Mr. Nobody drew the curtains closed. He watched the older man round the bed to the dresser. From the pitcher sitting on its surface, he poured a glass of water. “My apologies for such a rude introduction, Mr. Shaw,” he said, setting the glass next to a bottle of aspirin already on the nightstand, “but you complicated things a bit for my associate and she had to resort to…alternative methods.”

 _She?_ Carter stared at the ceiling to try and jog his sluggish mind. There’d been plenty of women hanging all over him last night, though none that were particularly memorable. Or clever enough to slip something in his drink without his notice. The older he got, the more he loathed attending such parties. Money, liquor, and sex were all that mattered, and he couldn’t care less. When he was younger and single, sure, but now he preferred sharing a bottle of wine with Owen and seeing where the night took them. He’d made his introductions and then retreated to the bank of couches at the back of the room to quietly observe. There had been one woman who’d joined him, though, one who rattled his guard: Gisele.

“Your husband would be pleased to know how faithful you are.” Mr. Nobody smiled and clasped his hands behind his back.

Carter huffed. Of course he was– _Wait, what?_ How did this guy know he was married? At his confusion, Mr. Nobody pulled out a smartphone, bushy brows furrowing. “My intel is correct, isn’t it?” he muttered to himself as he tapped away at the screen. After a minute he crowed, “Of course it is!”, and then put the phone away, pulling out a tiny handcuff key this time. He unlocked one of the cuffs, tossed the key at Carter to finish, and stepped out of reach.

Hands free, Carter gave his wrists a quick rub, and then reached for the aspirin bottle. “So what is it you want anyway?” He shook two pills from the bottle and chased them with a gulp of water. His head ached, he felt queasy, and he just wanted to be left alone right now. The last thing he was in the mood for was games.

“I want to hire you.”

“Sorry, old man, but I’m already employed.”

The man chuckled again, and Carter’s eye twitched. God, how he wanted to punch this cocky asshole. “Oh, you haven’t worked for the Bureau in quite some time now.”

Carter pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers to ward off the spike of pain drilling through his skull. It was way too early for this shit. “What are you talking about?”

“You do excellent work, Mr. Shaw, so I knew you’d be the perfect asset to my team. With a few minor revisions to some of your files, I was able to free you up for much bigger opportunities.”

“And what if I don’t want those opportunities?”

“Oh, you don’t have a choice, son.” Mr. Nobody smiled. It was unnerving how cheerful and grandfatherly he looked while explaining how he’d ruined Carter’s career. “According to Bureau records, you switched sides. You could try contesting it, yes, but I can alter records every step of the way.”

“So there was no mole from Braga.” He’d suspected one for some time, though he could never prove it. When he went dark this time, it was more to protect himself and those closest to him rather than simply narrowing his focus. He would never have guessed there was something else going on.

Turning away, Mr. Nobody poured himself a glass of water. “Not from Braga, no, but I’m impressed you caught on.” He took a sip, and then set the glass aside before continuing. “Now I’m sure you could find some other line of work even though you don’t need to with your husband’s wealth.”

Carter bristled at the implication. He refused to be some trophy husband when he was perfectly capable of earning his own way, particularly since he knew better than to ask where some of Owen’s money came from. He’d faced plenty of scrutiny just associating with Owen; he wasn’t about to invite any more into their lives. Marrying someone like Owen was the worst thing someone in his line of work could do and yet he had zero regrets. 

“You’ve still got options, so why work for me, right? And you’re not motivated by greed, so what else is there?” Mr. Nobody tapped his chin. “How about because I will leak everything I have on the Shaw brothers if you don’t? There’s no consolation prize here, so either you accept my offer or you’re walking away with absolutely nothing.”

Carter shot to his feet, wobbled, and then quickly sat down when Mr. Nobody pointed a gun at him. “I’m well aware of how this sounds, but I assure you I’m a reasonable man. I don’t want to ruin you, Mr. Shaw, I want to help you reach your full potential.” Funny, Carter thought, but he almost sounded sincere.

“By doing what? I don’t know anything about you. You abduct me, ruin my career, threaten me,” Carter ticked a finger with each offense, “and you expect me to see this as you helping me?”

“Alright, it does sound pretty bad when you put it that way, so how about a signing bonus?” Mr. Nobody holstered his weapon and pulled a key card from his pocket, tossing it onto the bed beside Carter. “A night with your husband, perhaps?”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe yes, maybe no. But I will never lie to you because that’s not how you build an efficient team. Trust me and you’ll always be rewarded.”

Staring at the plastic card, Carter chewed at his lip. This man-–whoever he was–-knew too much, and Carter had little doubt that he could make good on all those threats. So, really, what did he have to lose?

* * *

He refused to believe Owen was in the room. Owen wasn’t here. He didn’t even know Carter had left the country. Just another game, he reminded himself.

And yet, there he was–handcuffed to the bed and scowling, thoughts of murder likely running through his head. Desire flared in Carter’s gut. This was the Owen he’d fallen for; the smug, dangerous bastard with the brilliant hazel eyes that saw right through him. This was the Owen he’d seen only glimpses of in the past few years. The man who thrived on chaos had given it up to be with him; a romantic notion if Carter overlooked the real possibility that being married to him was suffocating Owen.

He forced the thought aside. There were more important things to consider, like that his feisty partner was handcuffed to the bed. There were a /lot/ of things Owen was willing to try in bed, but that was one he refused. Carter never pushed the issue, though he secretly hoped Owen would indulge him just once. When Carter finally stepped into Owen’s line of sight, his husband flashed him a toothy, wicked grin. “Surprise, darling,” Owen drawled. “Now stop drooling and get me out of these,” he said, giving the cuffs a tug.

The closer he got to the bed, though, the more obvious it became that Owen’s bravado was masking distress. He continued tugging at the cuffs, eyes forever searching but never quite meeting Carter’s. When a pained hiss followed a particularly rough tug, Carter leapt on top of Owen to draw his attention. Wild eyes locked with his, and Carter brushed their lips together.

They stayed like that for several minutes, nuzzling and kissing, breathing each other in until Owen’s tensed body finally relaxed under Carter’s weight. Palming the key from the nightstand, Carter freed Owen. Yet another thing they needed to address when this was all over. Until then, he refused to dwell on the idea that he might not know the man he loved as well as he thought.

Carter pressed kisses to each of Owen’s abused wrists, and then offered him a smile. “What are you doing here, huh, cariño?” Owen settled back into the mound of pillows, letting Carter trail more kisses along the column of his throat. Stale smoke and perfume clung to every inch of him, but Carter couldn’t get enough. It reminded him too much of their early days in Miami, and all the time they’d spent together in those nightclubs.

“You said you needed backup, so here we are.”

That gave Carter pause. “Who else is here?” He’d meant backup while in Los Angeles, not Ibiza. Not that he’d planned on being here. Or having to kill Fenix and winding up getting groomed as his successor. Or this case turning into a huge clusterfuck.

“Just Brian and Dominic.”

“And where are they?”

“No idea. We split up to search the club for you. Someone must have slipped me something, though, because I don’t remember much beyond that.”

“Gisele must’ve gotten to you first then,” Carter mused.

“Who?”

Carter explained everything he knew, which was far less than he liked. “And just how did you find me anyway?”

“Backup, darling, remember? When you seemed to disappear from LA, Brian started asking around until someone–Elena, I think it was–found you here,” Owen said while he idly worked open the buttons to Carter’s shirt. “We left on the first flight out and got here ahead of that miserable party. Someone apparently drugged me and here I am.” They were nearly naked by the time he finished. Perfect timing because Carter was starting to lose the inability to think in coherent thoughts.

An hour later they burrowed into the cool bed sheets, clean and thoroughly sated. Owen sprawled across him, the stale club scents now replaced with sandalwood and spice. If this was a dream, Carter never wanted to wake. “Tell me what happened,” he murmured, lips moving against the dark bruise forming on Owen’s wrist. “Please?”

“It’s not important, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s important to me.”

Owen didn’t say anything to that, just buried his nose in the crook of Carter’s neck like he always did to signal an end to the conversation. Carter wrapped his arms around Owen’s shoulders. Maybe it didn’t matter in the great scheme of things, but he’d never seen tough-as-nails Owen so scared and vulnerable when he thought no one was watching. But Carter wouldn’t press. It was one of Owen’s many secrets, and they were his to keep.


	5. Chapter 5

"What good is backup if you're not allowed to use it?"

Brian speared a piece of fruit with his fork and popped it into his mouth. "Relax, Shaw," he said around the bite of food, "think of it as a vacation!"

Owen tossed down the newspaper he'd been pretending to read and arched an eyebrow at Brian. He would never understand what Carter had seen in the obnoxious blond. "I don't need a vacation," he grumbled as he lifted a porcelain tea cup to his lips. Every day was already like a vacation, and he was tired of it. He needed action--adrenaline; the sweet scents of gunpowder and gasoline in the air, and a bit of fear for his life. Anything to relieve the monotony of civilian life.

"You're just upset you haven't gotten to shoot anything."

"Like you?"

Dom chuckled, and Brian waved middle fingers at both of them.

The click of shoes against the polished marble patio drew their attention to a woman clad simply in skin-tight jeans, tank top, and heels that could no doubt double as weapons. Rosy lips curved in a disarmingly soft smile as she introduced herself simply as Gisele. 

Sipping idly at his tea, Owen listened to her explain that she was also undercover in Braga's organization, but actually working for Mr. Nobody. So this was the waif who'd bested him? He definitely needed to find another creative outlet soon before he became any more sloppy.

Reaching for the teapot, Owen paused when he spotted Carter breeze through the doorway. "Morning, cariño." Carter dropped a kiss on his cheek before pulling out the empty chair and sitting. "I see you've met Gisele." Owen grunted, earning a light swat in the thigh. "Be nice," Carter murmured, pouring himself a cup of tea and swiping a pastry from the plate in front of them. "I think you'll like her idea."

That made him even less inclined to like whatever she had to say, though he kept the opinion to himself. He knew he was being difficult, but they'd unwittingly become puppets to whoever these people were and he loathed the lack of control. But Carter had no choice. Either he sided with Mr. Nobody, or he wound up ruined at best, and for that Owen would play nice.

For now. 

“This just came in this morning,” Gisele said as she handed Owen a folder. He briefly skimmed the pages of faces, names, and locations, and then passed the folder to Dom. "Braga will be meeting with one of his Iranian contacts tonight to close a deal for a large arms cache. Our previous goal was only to observe, but now we're in a position where we can actually intervene."

Dom threw an arm over the back of Brian's chair. "So lemme guess. You want to leave the real work up to us while you sit in on your little business meeting. Observing." The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk as he drew out the last word. Gisele's cool countenance faltered for a millisecond, and Owen hid a smile behind his tea cup. He always did enjoy Toretto's direct approach.

Gisele tucked an invisible strand of hair behind her ear and quickly regained her composure. Despite her fluster, Owen had to give her credit. Toretto was an imposing figure, and he'd seen lesser men tuck tail and run after that same look. "Yes," Gisele answered crisply. "My presence is mandatory, as it is for Carter, which is why it'll be up to the three of you to ensure those weapons don't make it into the contact's hands."

Owen whistled under his breath. Just who was this Mr. Nobody anyway? And who did he work for? Definitely not the FBI, and he doubted the CIA would bother being so underhanded about securing Carter's employ. MI6 and Mossad seemed unlikely too. Actually, anything government sanctioned seemed unlikely given the secrecy and willingness to use unknown assets. 

A wicked little thrill shot through Owen's system at the unlawful implications.

"And what happens to this cache once we secure it?" Dom asked. "You just gonna sell to a different terrorist?"

Gisele’s lips twisted into a grimace. "No, of course not."

"Uh huh. Then how about you tell us who you people really are because I don’t work for anyone who can’t trust me with that."

From the corner of his eye, Owen noticed Carter shift uncomfortably in his seat. So apparently his early morning meeting with her and Mr. Nobody had finally revealed something worthwhile. If his obvious discomfort was any indication, Owen suspected his guess wasn’t far off mark. 

"We’re a private security company that takes care of the jobs our employers either can’t or won’t. We’re careful to screen out requests for anything criminal, though we do occasionally wind up in gray areas. Beyond that, though, I’m unable to say anything more as you’re not officially employed by us. She glanced at the three of them then turned her focus back to Dom, this time with a smirk of her own. “If you want us to trust you with that, we need you to trust us.”

Dom tensed until Brian patted his stomach, the simple gesture diffusing whatever would’ve happened next. _Pity_ , Owen thought. If he was stuck on vacation, the least someone could do was entertain him. “And what exactly are the terms of this job?” he asked, all eyes turning to him as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. 

“One job, that’s it--no strings attached and no records to show your involvement. You’ll be compensated, of course.”

Owen mulled over her words. As nice a thought as payment was, he didn’t care about the money. He’d already given up the vast majority of his assets to be with Carter and had learned to live without, quickly discovering that his husband was his true source of happiness. “And what about Carter?”

Rather than explaining, she looked to Carter, who said, “I have to work a few more jobs for them, and then I’m free to leave if I want. Doing this basically means trading places with me, and it’ll be one less that I have to do.” He leaned over and brushed his lips against Owen’s ear. “It’s okay to take it if you want,” he whispered. “I know you miss this.” 

Chest squeezing as Carter’s words echoed in his mind, Owen nodded and looked to the others. Brian nodded as well, and Dom gave a shrug. “Might as well as long as we’re here,” he joked, earning a smack from Brian. 

With that taken care of, Brian immediately went back to studying the copy of the aerial photo they'd been given, his brows knitting together in thought while his finger drew invisible lines over the surface. “So it’s just the three of us?" Brian asked, lifting a skeptical eyebrow. “Okay, more like two if you consider me and him--” he jerked a thumb in Owen’s direction “--aren’t exactly in peak condition here.”

As much as Owen hated siding with the guy, Brian was right. Getting to the hanger was one thing, getting there unseen was another. Assuming they made it that far, they were still in the dark as to how many guards there were, what to do with the cache when they found it, and only a narrow window to do it in. Too many unaccounted for variables left too much room for error in his experience. It would be daunting for sure.

"For the most part, yes," Gisele said. "But one of our operatives stayed behind, so he'll help with whatever you need."

Better than nothing, he supposed. He'd once completed a more difficult mission with less resources, though he'd also wound up getting himself captured and tortured for it, so it wasn't much of an accomplishment as far as he was concerned. Owen rubbed his wrists at the memory, stopping when he felt the reassuring warmth of Carter's hand kneading the back of his neck. Shoving the memory aside, Owen dragged the photo across the table with a finger and considered it for a moment. 

Maybe their team was a bit lacking, but he had an idea.

* * *

"How do I look?" Carter stepped into the bedroom, smoothing the lapels of his jacket for the dozenth time since he'd put it on. They were fine--had been the first time--but his nerves always frayed before a job. He usually had no problem getting them under control, but this time he couldn't shake the unease that had crawled under his skin shortly after breakfast and refused to leave. It wasn't just his life on the line tonight, and he would never be able to forgive himself if something happened to any of them.

Owen's eyes raked over him, taking in every single inch of the tailored charcoal suit Carter wore only for such occasions. "Stunning." A soft smile curved his lips as he got up from the bed and crossed the room. He straightened Carter's tie and brushed invisible lint from his shoulders, hands hovering as he searched for more things to fix in a nervous gesture Carter recognized all too well.

He leaned in and ran his nose along the hard line of Owen's jaw. The fussing paused as Owen tilted his head to give Carter better access. "You're worried, cariño," Carter murmured, setting his hands on Owen's hips and pulling him to his chest. It wasn't a question. For as bold and sometimes downright impetuous as Owen could be, he always found something to worry over regardless of whether he was involved in a job or not.

"Of course I am. Forgive me, though, I'm a bit more concerned about myself at the moment."

"You'll be fine," Carter reassured. He nipped at Owen's earlobe and gave a gentle tug, drawing a satisfying growl from his throat.

"While I appreciate the vote of confidence, it's been a long time since I've done something like this. I'm...not what I used to be."

Carter wound his arms around Owen's waist and gave him a squeeze. Owen rarely acknowledged his limitations unless he got frustrated, which typically only happened when bad weather settled into his joints as a deep, persistent ache nothing short of a barometric shift relieved. Otherwise, his recovery had surpassed his doctors' expectations, and he still found plenty of ways to keep himself sharp and combat his body's minor shortcomings. Owen would always have the limp--and probably the aches and nightmares as well--but he wasn't letting any of it slow him down.

Carter pressed their foreheads together. “You know I wouldn’t let you do something like this if I didn’t believe in you.” Owen wouldn't be doing parkour any time soon, but he still had plenty of other useful skills.

Owen didn't say anything to that, instead leaning away to distance himself from both Carter and the conversation. "Now, about that watch of yours."

"What's wrong with my watch?"

Owen huffed an exaggerated sigh. "Have I taught you nothing?" he teased, taking Carter's hand and removing his watch. "You're supposed to look like you have money." He dangled the offending accessory from a finger in front of Carter's face. "This says you shop at department stores." 

"They said it was a good brand."

"Darling. No." Owen flung the watch onto the bed and fastened his own watch to Carter's wrist, a complex timepiece with exposed inner workings, multiple dials, and a name engraved around the edge that Carter couldn't even begin to pronounce. "Rolex is a 'good' brand. Audemars Piguet is art.” Owen’s eyes flicked up, and Carter managed a weak smile. If Owen noticed, he made no comment as he took Carter's face in his hands and kissed him before wandering into the bathroom.

Sadness twinged in Carter's chest. He loved the spark of excitement in those hazel eyes and the infectious smiles as his placid husband lit up like a Christmas tree when chattering about his watches and cars and other shiny things. Most of it went over Carter's head but that was fine by him--Owen's happiness was more precious to him than anything money could buy.

He stared at the timepiece, watching all the tiny gears jitter and whirl under the glass surface. The movement did seem smoother than his own watch, but he couldn't imagine dropping thousands of dollars for such a thing. Hundreds of thousands for this particular model if he guessed correctly. It was only a material thing but it seemed so important to Owen, and that always bothered Carter because he couldn't provide those things for his husband; couldn't be the reason for that glow he so adored. He would give Owen all the love in the world, but he occasionally wondered if that'd always be enough for a man with a taste for such luxury. 

"Let's get this over with then," Owen grumbled as he threw his coat on and opened the door. Drawing a deep breath, Carter followed him out. Now was hardly the time to be thinking about his own domestic shortcomings. Work first, marital strife later.


	6. Chapter 6

"Something isn't right," Owen muttered as he passed the night vision binoculars to Brian.

"Whaddya--” Brian peered through the binoculars. “Huh. Where is everyone?"

That's what Owen wanted to know. The intel had said there were roughly a dozen guards minimum scattered about the property but they had yet to encounter one. Assuming the cache truly was here, there was no way millions of dollars worth of weaponry had been left unguarded. Either this was a trap or the cache had disappeared, both scenarios leaving more questions than answers in his mind. 

In his ear, it sounded like Dom and Hobbs were coming to the same conclusion when their sweep of the hangar produced nothing in the way of guns or opposition. "Anything?" Owen prompted.

"Absolutely nothing," Hobbs answered back. "Not even any signs that someone might have beaten us here and taken out the help."

"I thought you said the intel was good," Dom growled.

"It is!"

"Then why the fuck are we standin' here holdin' our--"

"Okay!" Brian cut in, heading off the inevitable argument. It had been instant dislike the moment Dom and Hobbs met, though Owen couldn't figure out why. Hobbs struck him as completely capable, intelligent, and friendly enough--to himself and Brian anyway. Probably just some idiot alpha posturing, he supposed, something he'd never had any reason to engage in. People knew instinctively when he was in charge, and he was quick to let them know when they didn't. While Owen didn't care for the behavior personally, those two could wave their dicks at each other all they wanted so long as it didn't interfere with the job. 

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Owen gave the darkness a final once over before he reached for the rifle set up on the ground next to him. There were a variety of reasons that could explain why the cache wasn't here, but they wouldn't get any closer to figuring out which one it was by sticking around here any longer than they already had. "Let's get out of here."

Gravel crunched underfoot somewhere behind them, sending both Owen and Brian scrambling for their sidearms. They rolled over and aimed at the shadowy figure approaching them. "You can put the guns down." The figure chuckled, and Owen immediately lowered his gun and gestured at Brian to do the same.

Owen pushed himself up. "Deck!" He threw his arms out and let his older brother wrap him up in a fierce hug. Tears stung the corners of Owen's eyes. He was used to Deckard being gone, but it had been well over five years since their last brief encounter. Carter had assured him that Deckard checked in on him after the accident a couple years back, though Owen had been unconscious at the time and it saddened him that his brother had been unable to stay until he'd woken up.

After some hasty introductions, Owen ignored Brian's gawping and looked back to Deckard. "What are you doing here?"

Deckard gave Owen's cheek a pat, and then stuffed his hands in his pockets, watching the two collect their things. "You think I don't keep tabs on my baby brother?"

Owen opened his mouth to reply but then closed it. Truthfully? No. Once he'd grown up and no longer needed Deckard to play caretaker, his brother took to the wind; always busy--always gone--and it became a simple fact of life rather than something Owen held against him. Their lives were separate now, but he always hoped Deck was proud of him.

"Because Afshar is a good friend to have in my line of work," Deckard explained with a shrug. "So imagine my curiosity when he mentions he's working on a deal with Braga. A Carter was mentioned as well, so obviously I needed to look into that. One trail led to another, and here we are."

"You wouldn't happen to know where the cache is then, would you?" Owen asked, hopeful. Maybe they could complete this job after all.

The corner of Deckard's mouth curled in a smirk as he looked between Owen and Brian. "Of course I do--I was the one who moved it. Afshar's not stupid enough to leak the location without it being a ruse." He handed Owen a slip of paper, gave him a quick hug, and whispered 'love you' into his ear before turning and walking away.

Once Deckard melted back into the shadows, Brian finally found his voice. "That... That was Deckard Shaw."

"One of the Bureau's brightest, aren't you?" Owen slung the rifle bag over his shoulder. "No wonder they never gave me any problems."

"If that had been anyone else in Miami, they would've given you up in a heartbeat."

Owen bit back a laugh. "Is that your problem with me? That I successfully avoided getting caught? Because if it is," Owen took a step toward Brian as an unspoken challenge, "maybe we should discuss what goes on in _your_ husband's garage." He took another step, bringing himself nearly toe to toe with Brian, who clenched his fists but refused to step back. Oh, this was fun. And while Owen knew better than to antagonize Brian, he couldn't resist getting another dig in. "Or is it that Carter broke up with you before he left, and came back with me? If Miami had never happened, maybe you'd still have him."

"He deserves better than you," Brian spat.

Owen shouldered past him and headed off down the hill to the rendezvous point before Brian could say anything else. Carter was free to love whoever he wanted, and for whatever crazy reasons Owen still sometimes couldn’t quite comprehend, Carter had ultimately chosen him. Carter did deserve better, and so Owen strove everyday to be worthy of that love. It was Brian’s problem if he couldn’t accept the lengths Owen had gone to for Carter, and he was the last person owed an explanation.

* * *

The moment the SUV turned off the brightly lit, bustling freeway and onto a quiet local road, Carter's stomach began churning. He always hated the gnawing sense of dread before a meet. Would things go as planned, or would it be a trap? Would he be made or not? He glanced over at Gisele, who was busy chewing an already short nail down to nothing. Anyone else and he would've been concerned. But he'd been around her enough to know the tic signaled a variety of emotions, none worth getting himself worked up over.

Turning his attention back to the window, he stared at the empty black night rushing past. If everything had gone right, Owen's team should have already taken care of the cache and gotten in place to extract himself and Gisele. It was a big 'if', and he refused to lower his guard until he was back in the hotel again with Owen safe in his arms.

When they turned again, this time onto a long drive that appeared to lead to a villa in the near distance, Carter's stomach clenched. This wasn't the location Mr. Nobody's intel had indicated. There was nothing but open fields as far as he could tell; certainly no aircraft hangers. Another glance at Gisele told him now he should worry.

The caravan of vehicles pulled up in front of the villa. Sliding out of the back seat, Carter adjusted his jacket and took a deep inhale of the cool night air. The clean, earthy tang of soil and damp grass settled his nerves. For now. He fell into step behind Braga, following him up the stone steps and into the foyer. Above them hung a massive wrought iron chandelier, casting a warm glow about the space. The exposed wood, stone tiles, and abundance of potted plants made the villa seem like it had sprung from the earth itself. It felt homey and welcoming, an odd contrast to the business they were here on. 

One of Afshar's men quickly patted down Carter and Braga, and then jerked his head to the side, indicating they should follow Afshar. As they were led to the opposite end of the villa, Carter noted how the natural theme continued throughout. While he was no stranger to the extravagance of the lifestyle, it still boggled his mind. He did well by industry standards, yet he still had to live modestly if he didn't want to live paycheck to paycheck or worse. Money was only a means to an end for him rather than a drive; he could always use more--who couldn't?--but it would never control him.

Guilt washed over him. Was simple greed not how Owen had amassed his fortune? Carter had never shunned him for it, though the conflict of money handling had created much of the contention early in their relationship. After Owen gave it all up and they got married it became a moot point. Or had it? Owen seemed okay with how things turned out, yet it still bothered Carter when something like this reminded him of it. Maybe it was different--easier--when you'd already tasted excess, but he still couldn't wrap his mind around someone willingly trading it for...him.

Afshar led them into a luxurious study; large, carved wooden desk front and center and the walls to either side lined floor to ceiling with filled bookshelves. Behind the desk was a wall of glass looking out onto what appeared to be a sprawling patio with the turquoise glow of a pool in the center.

Hearing the pair of wooden doors close behind them, Carter spared a glance over his shoulder. Two of Afshar's men stood guard, hands folded in front of them. They were big, beefy guys who reminded him of Toretto, guys who didn't need weapons to deal serious damage. Knowing Afshar, though, he was prudent enough to ensure his help was armed even when his guests were not.

"My apologies, gentlemen, for dragging you all the way out here," Afshar said as he took a seat behind the desk and gestured for them to sit. Braga took the chair to the right, and Carter waited for him to nod his approval before taking the other chair. "It is so much less stressful talking business out here than in lovely Ibiza." _Also easier to shoot the opposition and dispose of the bodies when deals went south._ Propping an ankle on his knee, Carter half listened to the two men exchange more small talk before getting to why they were here. Without the backup, he and Gisele reverted to the original plan of blending in and observing. He didn't know which was more boring: the parties or these meetings.

As if on cue, one of the doors creaked open and a guard poked his head in. He whispered something to one of the men standing watch, and then the door closed. Afshar's good mood faded as the guard leaned over to quietly relay whatever message he'd been given. If Afshar's rapidly darkening expression as he looked between Carter and Braga was any indication, it was something bad. Very bad. Possibly blown cover bad. Carter willed himself to stay still. Any sign of nervousness now would draw unwanted attention.

Afshar waved the guard away and stood, furious as he rounded the desk. Muffled shouts and curses sounded from the hallway before the doors burst open, and two of Afshar's men shoved Owen and Brian forward, sending them sprawling at Afshar's feet. They were bloodied and bruised but nowhere close to being broken. Not yet, anyway.

Standing, Carter grabbed the edge of the desk to steady himself. _Please let this be some part of some plan of theirs._

"It seems you have some competition, Mr. Braga," Afshar said, sneering down at the two. Carter swallowed against the rage building in his gut, urging him to lash out at someone, anyone. "My men caught these two stealing your weapons. What would you like done about this?" Afshar kicked at Owen, who rolled out of the way and sat up. Brian wasn't as fast.

"Hey, fuck you, man." Brian twisted and rubbed at his injured side as best as he could with his hands tied behind his back.

When both were sitting upright, Braga squatted in front of them, studying each for far longer than Carter thought necessary. Braga roughly grabbed Owen's chin, but Owen jerked his head away, earning a backhanded smack for it. Licking blood from his split lip, Owen just flashed Braga that feral smile that Carter recognized all too well. Braga was as good as dead if Owen got loose, and Carter wouldn't stop him. In fact, he would be happy to help.

"If it wouldn't be so much trouble, they'd make nice...souvenirs." Braga barked a laugh. Afshar raised an eyebrow at him but his lips remained pressed together into a thin, disapproving line. It was a well-guarded secret that Braga had an occasional appetite for men, though both Owen and Brian skewed a little too old, too feisty, and rough around the edges for his taste. Not that any of those necessarily deterred him when he wanted to make a point. "What do you think we should do with them?" Braga turned to Carter.

"Sir?"

Braga motioned him over, and the two switched places. "You have a good mind for these things, better than Fenix ever had. Suggestions?" 

Pretending to study them as closely as Braga had, Carter gently cupped Owen's chin in his hand and turned his head from side to side. There was a smear of drying blood from a gash along his hairline and discoloration along his jaw, but thankfully little else. Hazel eyes watched him like a hawk, though Carter couldn't see anything but fire in their depths. "You could take them back to the hotel and see if you like what they have to say. If not," Carter shrugged and brushed a thumb over Owen's lip, "I could take care of them for you." Owen's mouth twitched into a smirk. 

Braga's own smile turned into a leer that made Carter want to shudder. "Yes, I like the sound of that."

"They are lucky," Afshar said as Carter scruffed Owen and Brian by their collars and hauled them to their feet. "I would have just put a bullet in their heads." He and Braga burst into laughter. Taking advantage of the situation, Carter herded Owen and Brian out the door before anyone could protest. If he could just get a moment alone with them he could figure out what the hell was going on.

"What are you doing here?" Carter hissed when they were around a corner and out of earshot. From his pocket, he produced a quarter that he pressed into Owen’s hands as he urged them forward.

"Dom and Hobbs needed a distraction to get away with the cache," Brian answered.

"So you got yourselves caught."

"All part of our plan," Owen said.

"Which is?"

"Get everyone back on the road and you'll see."

"And wear your seat belt!" Brian quickly added before they joined everyone else in the foyer.


	7. Chapter 7

With Brian's words echoing in his mind, Carter fastened his seatbelt and gave the strap a tug to tighten it. He had no idea what to expect but if those two were involved, there was good reason to fear for his life because whenever Owen or Brian was around, something was sure to get destroyed in the most spectacular way possible. Carter always considered it overkill; Owen and Brian preferred to consider it experimenting. As long as the job got done and they all made it out alive, he supposed it didn't matter what it was called.

What bothered Carter most was not knowing what to expect or what to do. He would've felt better being in the same SUV as the other three, but it would look bad--if not downright suspicious--for him to abandon his boss's side.

Several minutes later, Braga climbed into the vehicle and strapped himself into the empty space next to Carter, ranting in Spanish the entire time. Carter tuned him out, glad when they finally started moving after one of Braga's bodyguards got into the passenger seat. He couldn't care less what Braga thought of Afshar or his methods, and he sure as hell didn't want to hear the crude things the drug lord said about Owen and Brian.

The lights of the villa soon faded behind them. Carter tensed, spinning the gold ring on his finger with his thumb. What was going to happen, and when? There were no headlights in front of them, let alone anywhere else to indicate there was anyone else out here in the middle of nowhere. Though it was impossible to determine specifics, Dom and Hobbs had to be somewhere nearby. At least he hoped they were. This job was wearing him down and he was more than ready to be done with it.

From the corner of his eye, Carter glimpsed something in front of them. Before he could identify exactly what kind of vehicle was headed straight for them, its high beams switched on. A second later he heard the shriek of metal against metal before the SUV began listing to the side.

_No, no, no, no, no._

Carter squeezed his eyes shut.

Metal groaned and compacted around them as the vehicle rolled. The windows shattered, glass pelting Carter's face. Inertia jerked his entire body one way, and then the other, the seatbelt biting into his skin as he was violently shaken around in the beat up tin can that used to be an SUV.

What felt like some of the longest minutes of Carter's life had, in reality, been only seconds. Now he was upside-down in the crumpled shell of the vehicle, trapped by the seatbelt he could never be thankful enough for. Pain shot through his arm as he dug out his pocketknife. He vaguely remembered slamming into the door, but nothing felt broken. He set to work sawing open the strap, gritting his teeth as the movement caused bursts of white hot pain to explode through his arm and shoulder. Maybe not broken, but something was seriously wrong. 

Once freed from the seatbelt, Carter managed to wriggle out of the wreckage pressing against his legs, sparing no glance at anyone else as he crawled out of the smashed window.

On solid ground again, he now realized it wasn't just his arm that hurt but his entire body; a dull, persistent ache that throbbed from even the tiniest motion. But he couldn't stop. Freedom was the armored vehicle sitting just beyond the second SUV.

_Owen._

As he approached, one of the doors swung open and two men went tumbling out. The rest of the doors flew open a millisecond later and everyone else spilled out, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. Putting a bullet between the driver's eyes as he lunged for her, Gisele stepped over his body and gave the scene a quick once over before meeting Carter halfway.

"You okay?" she asked, touching his wounded arm.

Carter pulled away with a hiss. "I'm fine. Where's Owen?"

"He's..." Gisele turned, and Carter followed her gaze, breathing a sigh of relief when he spotted Owen helping Brian up. A smirk tugged at the corner of Gisele's mouth. "Go on. I'm just going to clean up here, and I'll be right behind you."

"You sure you don't need any help?"

She held up her hands--pistol in one and cigarette lighter in the other--and flashed him a wicked grin. "I can manage."

The sharp crack of a gunshot in the still night drew their attention. Carter's heart leapt into his throat as he watched Brian roll away to one side while Owen crumpled to the ground on the other, clutching at his side. Between them sat the man Brian had tackled, the same one who had been laying face down in the grass only moments ago.

Before anyone could react, though, Dom appeared, gun trained on Braga's guy as he stormed toward him. "Put it down!" he barked, putting himself between Brian and the guy. The guy’s eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly complied, getting pistol-whipped anyway. But he stayed down this time. 

Carter's body switched to autopilot, propelling him forward again and past the scene. His suit jacket was off before his knees ever touched ground beside Owen. Pressing the jacket to Owen's side, Carter silently prayed it would staunch the bleeding long enough to get help. He couldn't lose Owen, not now; not like this when they were so close. "You'll be okay, cariño," Carter said, though whether for Owen's benefit or his own he wasn't sure.

A bloodied hand covered his and Owen offered him a weak smile. "Now is when you start lying to me, darling?" He chuckled, but then his face twisted into a pained grimace.

Reluctant, Carter pulled his hand out from under Owen's so that Owen was the one holding the jacket against his side. Carter helped him up, each step forward an eternity in his mind. "What happened?" The answer didn't matter to him, he just needed something to distract himself from the worry and his own aching body.

"We were...on our way here when we heard movement behind us. I--I thought it was you..." Owen went quiet for a second, grunting before continuing. "He pulled a gun on us, and I shoved Brian out of the way. Fat lot of good that did me."

Carter pulled open the door, and Hobbs turned and looked at them from the driver's seat. "Now what did I tell you about getting shot?"

"Not to?" Owen bit out. He turned to Carter. "Never was good at taking orders."

Yeah, didn't he know it.

Owen stretched out on the bench seat, hissing and groaning as he settled himself, head pillowed on Carter's thigh. Their free hands tangled together, never once letting go for the entire ride back to civilization.

* * *

"You know, this isn't exactly what I had in mind when I suggested Spain for a vacation." Owen gazed longingly at the tranquil blue water stretching across the horizon. Gentle waves broke against the sandy shore, sending chatty sea birds scurrying away. A warm breeze tousled his hair. The one thing he'd wanted so badly to share with Carter and he couldn't even enjoy it because of the damned hole in his side.

He was healing well after his brief stint in the hospital but it would be quite awhile before he'd be fully recovered, and he refused to be confined to a hospital bed any longer than was absolutely necessary. Considering how difficult he was as a patient, he imagined the staff was thrilled to be rid of him anyway.

"There'll be another time," Carter said, reaching over to rub Owen's forearm. "You want another drink?"

"No," Owen grumbled. What he wanted was a good swim or a roll in the sand but he was in no shape for either, and alcohol was out of the question with all the pain meds coursing through his veins. Basically, he'd been denied fun. 

He stared at the words on the page in front of him but they may as well have been a foreign language for all he was paying attention. After a minute longer, Owen closed the book and slapped it down on the table between them. What bothered him most about this whole mess was not the pain or limited activity options--those he could deal with. What he couldn't deal with was all the time doing nothing had given him to think, to sort through all the things he long ago shoved to the back of his mind; things he kept buried for a reason. But now that he'd gone over them multiple times?

Now he was terrified.

Pushing himself up from the lounge chair he winced and snatched the book from the table. "Let's go back to the room." Carter frowned, but got up and followed him without question.

Owen's stomach knotted the entire way back. When the door clicked shut behind them, he steeled himself against the sudden urge to fall to pieces where he stood. Confusion and fear warred in Carter's eyes as he pulled Owen to his chest. Heart aching, Owen gently pushed him away.

"Cariño?" Carter reached for him again, and this time Owen let himself relax against his husband. "What's wrong?"

"I..." Owen swallowed around the lump in his throat and buried his face in Carter's neck. He didn't want to see the devastation on Carter's face when he told him what was on his mind. For all the mistakes he’d made in his life, he always brushed them off because the fallout never mattered. He would walk away and vow never to make the same mistake twice. But this mistake hurt not only him but Carter as well, the only person who had ever captured his heart and meant more to Owen than any treasure in the world. He would do anything for Carter, but that apparently had limits he’d never counted on. 

"I can't do this anymore."

Carter stiffened, but then began rubbing circles across Owen's tense shoulders. "Can't do what?" His words were halting--strangled--and it was all Owen could do to keep himself together.

"I can't keep being...good for you." Owen laughed bitterly at how ridiculous it sounded. "I thought I could do it, but I can't. It's like I'm...suffocated, and I don't know how to stop it. If you go back to the FBI when this is all over, I--"

Carter's lips were on his before he could finish. Owen clutched at Carter's shirt; their tongues curling around one another in a desperation. He couldn't bear to lose Carter but he was going out of his mind trying to behave and be the good husband he had to be for Carter's sake.

"This is because you got a taste of that life again, isn't it?" Carter asked as he guided them toward the bed. The backs of Owen's legs bumped against the mattress, and he fell backwards and laid down, heart racing as Carter climbed on top of him. "I told you to do it, amor. I wanted you to because I know how hard this life is for you. I can’t--" He pressed their foreheads together. “I can’t give you everything you want.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The expensive cars and watches, and everything else. I’ll never be able to give you those.”

“I don’t care about those things, not when I have you.” Gently touching Carter’s cheek, Owen dragged his fingers down, following the line of his husband’s jaw, brushing over his lips. Sure, all those toys were nice to have but he could--and had--lived without them. They were just a perk of his previous lifestyle, when he didn’t know what love was or that it was even a possibility for someone like himself. He missed the thrill--not the money--but he couldn’t have it all and that was the crux of the matter. “I--”

The words died in his throat as he stared up into stormy blue eyes. Gone was the hurt and fear he'd seen minutes ago, now replaced by an intensity he saw only in his dreams these days. This was the Carter he'd first met, the one who toed the line between good and bad; the one who lived a restrained life, not because it was what he wanted, but because it was the only option he knew. This Carter was dangerous and intoxicating, everything that had drawn Owen to him like a moth to a flame. They'd been spectacular together once, and could be so again. But did Carter want that too?

Goosebumps broke out on Owen's skin as Carter's hands slid under his shirt and worked it up and over Owen's head, careful not to aggravate his wound. "You're not the only one who's had too much time to think," Carter murmured, lips fluttering over Owen's pulse as he spoke. "I'm not going back to the FBI."

Owen worked open the buttons on Carter's shirt, and then pushed it off his shoulders to reveal the freckled skin beneath. "And what about Mr. Nobody's offer?"

"I still have to do those other jobs, of course." Carter trailed a line of kisses down Owen's good side, sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. They couldn't be as rough or creative as they usually liked, but they'd found other ways to enjoy one another that didn't end with him howling in pain. "But I talked to him again while you were in the hospital. Said we could work together with them for as long as we wanted."

"Even on those first ones?" Owen asked, hopeful.

Humming a positive note, Carter lazily worked open the front of Owen's board shorts and slid them off. Owen's cock sprang free, undeterred by the cold air biting at the newly exposed skin. Carter shed his own shorts and climbed back onto the bed, grabbing the edge of the comforter and pulling it over them. "Let's start over," he said, dragging a hand up the inside of Owen's thigh. "There's nothing tying us to LA. We'll live somewhere else, and take our chances with Mr. Nobody for awhile. Would that be okay?"

Owen gasped as he arched into Carter's knowing touch. "You realize I'd agree to anything so long as you keep doing that, right?"

Huffing a laugh, Carter continued stroking Owen, just enough to keep him teetering on the edge of bliss. "So then how would you feel about moving back to Miami?"

Lips curling into a contented smile, Owen's eyes fell shut. "Can't wait."


	8. Chapter 8

Several months later...

Half asleep while he baked in the Florida sunshine, Carter groaned at the sound of approaching heels clicking on concrete. Flamingo pink painted toenails greeted him when he finally opened his eyes, and he glanced up to see Gisele standing over him.

"How'd you get in?" he grumbled, resting his head on his arms and closing his eyes again.

There was a smirk in her voice. "How do you think?"

Fucking Roberto and Enrique, that's how. They'd been supplied as security courtesy of Mr. Nobody, who wanted to ensure his newest employees and their home were taken care of. All good and well except they were also on Nobody's payroll and therefore answered to him. If he sent someone here with a job, they got in no questions asked.

She dropped the folder she'd been carrying on the glass table next to his lounge chair.

Cracking an eye open, Carter quickly closed it when he saw how thick the folder was. He'd deal with it later. Right now he needed time to decompress after starting the day off by nearly getting himself shot.

The sound of a muffled woof drew Carter's attention. He propped his chin on his arms, smiling to himself as he watched Lola dance at Owen's feet when he climbed out of the pool. She woofed around the tennis ball in her jaws, her request for someone to play fetch with.

Owen sat down at the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water as he gently pried the ball from Lola's grasp and waved it in front of her nose. She crouched beside him, rump wiggling in anticipation. It was sometimes hard to believe this overgrown puppy could be a stranger's worst nightmare. 

Owen threw the ball and Lola launched herself into the pool after it, hitting the water with a loud splash before she paddled away. Waiting for her to return with the ball, Owen leaned back and smiled, the picture of complete and utter peace and contentment.

"He looks well," Gisele commented.

Staring at his husband, Carter felt a flutter in his chest. After losing some weight and muscle tone during recovery, Owen had quickly made up for it with a new diet and workout regimen that filled him out in all the right places. Moving to the east coast had immensely improved his mood, and the overall result was a solid powerhouse of almost limitless energy that Carter couldn't get enough of. Only the fresh scar above Owen's hip remained as a reminder of how they'd wound up here. 

As if sensing his audience, Owen glanced over at them and offered a little wave of acknowledgement before turning his attention back to Lola.

"So what does Mr. Nobody want now?" Carter asked. Today's fiasco was the last thing he'd needed to take care of before he was free from Nobody's blackmail.

"Nothing. I'm only here to return what you were promised for completing those initial jobs."

Carter's brows shot up in surprise. He'd only sent confirmation a few hours ago, and already they were being let off the hook? He couldn't decide if it was an impressive act of good faith, or something to be suspicious of. 

"Maybe we will work together again someday." She flashed him a smile and left.

Oh, they would, he was sure of it, but he and Owen had agreed not to sign on until they could confirm all digital records had been restored as well, a task that'd likely take weeks. In the meantime they'd make the most of this respite.

On the chair beside him, Owen sprawled out on his stomach, offering Carter a tempting view of his muscled back and wet swim trunks clinging to his ass like a second skin. "That better not be another job already." 

"It's not." Carter sat up and thumbed through the pages before offering the folder to Owen, who waved it away. 

"Whatever it is, I want nothing to do with it at least until the weekend's over." Owen shot him a crooked grin. "You do want me to be in a good mood, don't you?" Lola licked his hand, earning herself a scratch behind the ear before she bounced away for her regular afternoon patrol of the property with Roberto and Enrique.

Chuckling, Carter laid back down and draped an arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight. Owen had a point. They deserved their hard-earned break and certainly didn't need anything that might ruin their plan to spend part of the weekend with Brian and Dom.

While they'd all kept in touch so far, Carter knew better than to take it for granted. Life would happen sooner or later and they might not get another opportunity like this for quite awhile. He didn't believe they would completely drift apart, but the possibility was always there, especially now that living separate lives meant being on opposite sides of the country.

Though now that he thought about it, he was handling the change of scenery far better than he'd thought he would. It still felt somewhat odd leaving everything he knew behind, but he'd spent so much time in Miami that it had always felt like a second home. The so-called 'City of Angels' may be his first home but it hadn't felt like it the last couple years. 

Carter snorted to himself. 

He was certainly no angel. Back when he'd first joined the FBI as an over eager cadet wanting to make a difference, sure, but time and bureaucratic bullshit had worn him down, and he'd been falling ever since; constantly toeing that invisible line just a little more each time to see how far he could go to get the job done. None of it was an issue working for Mr. Nobody. 

"You know," Owen said, pulling Carter from his thoughts, "we still have a few hours until we have to be presentable. Maybe we should go inside and take a nap before then."

Carter snorted at the innuendo. "Haven't you had enough rest lately?" he teased. This new lifestyle of having easy access to one another most hours of the day was exactly what they needed to make up for lost time, and they hadn't wasted a minute of it. They'd tire of it eventually and settle into a quieter day-to-day life, but until then he would savor the luxury. "We've got weeks worth of time to catch up, more if we decide not to work for Mr. Nobody."

"Is that an option?"

"Of course it is."

"But what would we do then?" The other chair creaked, and Owen straddled his hips." Lounge by the pool all day, and make love all night?" He asked with a suggestive smirk, dragging a finger down Carter's chest.

"Well when you put it that way..."


End file.
